


Family Heirloom

by FleaBee



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Gen, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 12:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14853048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleaBee/pseuds/FleaBee
Summary: Mr Rimmer gives his youngest son a family heirloom that was meant to go to his oldest.





	Family Heirloom

Jack Rimmer examined his youngest son. The unplanned disappointment. The one that had inherited his worst traits and some of his wife's horrible traits. He looked so much like his oldest brother except for the hair. He'd inherited a head of curls that did not come from the Rimmer family those came from his mother's family.

Despite being shy of thirty, the boy couldn't control his emotions. Getting angry and crying at the drop of a hat, wearing his feelings on his sleeves. Everything that he was trained not to do from the time he was a child. Jack didn't know where he'd gone wrong to get such an emotional child.

Jack's youngest sat before him, looking at his feet. Trying and failing to hide that he'd been crying. His eyes were red bloodshot and his face puffy and covered in splotches.

"Arnold, look at me," Jack ordered the boy. Still so obedient that he looked up immediately, embarrassed by his emotions but continued looking due to the order.

Normally he'd scold the boy for this behaviour. Not today. Today had been a rough day for the entire family. Jack more so than his son despite his lack of emotion. He wanted to join his son for once in the display of emotion. However, pride would not allow him. He had to be strong emotionally even if he wasn't strong physically anymore. The past several years he'd been confined to a wheelchair and didn't have control over one side of his body. Darn strokes had nearly done him in.

"Sorry father, I'm trying not to cry. Anytime time I think I've stopped I start again," Arnold sniffed, his voice was strained as he tried and failed to keep his voice even. He pulled a hankie which was already soaked out his pocket, blowing his nose and wiping away the tears.

"For once I will allow this behaviour," Jack said to his youngest. "If there is a time to show your emotions it is during the mourning period of a loved one. "

"I didn't love him!"  His youngest stood to his feet rapidly and snapped with such venom in his voice that surprised Jack. His youngest never showed this type of hatred for his brothers. "I tried to, I really tried to love him, but he made it impossible." Arnold stopped to blow his nose before looking Jack dead in the eye, so focused, more focused then he'd seen the boy before. "John hated me, and I never understood why. He blamed me for ruining his life? How could I ruin his life? I never did anything to him beyond following him around when I was really young because all I wanted was to be just like him and that is normal behaviour for a little kid." He looked away and just above a whisper he added, "Maybe I can be like him in one way."

"You're not going to kill yourself, Arnold," Jack insisted.

That got his boys attention. He stopped sobbing and stared at him. Probably surprised that he'd used his name twice in one conversation. He rarely called the boy by name. He rarely called any of his children by their names. Maybe if he called John by his name more often he would still be around. He'd failed his eldest, he'd failed his youngest. He probably failed all his children.

"Sit down," Jack ordered.

Arnold looked at the seat with much suspicion before he finally sat back down. "John's suicide is not your fault, even if he did blame you in his note. He was a selfish child who blamed others when things didn't go his way. You are not to blame. Who is to blame is John himself, your mother and I. Not you. You were a child who never had much to do with your eldest brother."

Jack took a drink before placing the glass back down and running his good hand through his thinning hair, taking in a heavy sigh before addressing his son once more.

"Leading up to the time of your birth, John's behaviour was becoming reckless and uncontrollable. He was a danger to himself and those around him. He was on a thin line with the school, close to being expelled and the only reason he wasn't expelled was due to his excellent school results. As hard as it is to believe with how strict your mother and I are with you Howard we were far too lenient on John and Frank."

Arnold looked at him, disbelief over his face. He'd never seen the years when they'd been lenient. Letting John and Frank get away with almost everything since they both done really well with school and Space Cadets well on their way to a career in the Space Corps.

"Around the time you were born,, we ended going from not strict enough to too strict on John and Frank. I'm afraid with Howard and yourself we were too strict. If I could go back - never mind it's impossible to go back. The point is, what John did isn't your fault. You haven't spoken to John in years. What you did as a child was many years ago and nothing to hold a grudge against into adulthood. Don't even try to blame yourself for John's mistake. I will not have a second son committing suicide."

Arnold opened his mouth to argue, Jack cut him off before he could say a word.

"I know your life did not turn out how you wanted. I know what it is like to be rejected by the Space Corps. You are never going to get into the Space Corps, do you understand me, Arnold?

"Yes father," The boy was heartbroken hearing that he'd never be in the Space Corps like his three older brothers. That ship had sailed even if the boy could not see it yet.

"As for why you are here, it is not for a pep talk. John is my oldest son. As my oldest son, he was to inherit my Javanese camphor wood chest when I am gone."

Arnold looked towards the chest with longing, he'd always appreciated the family heirloom, unlike his three older brothers. He'd made it known very early on that he hated that it was going to go to John over himself all because he was the oldest.

"John is gone and without a wife or child. At least an acknowledged child." Jack knew that his eldest son had children that had not been acknowledged by John. He didn't even know how many bastards his eldest son left behind. John was the one most like his mother in that regard. "There is no one to take the chest that was supposed to be handed from oldest to oldest. I considered if I would give the heirloom to Frank. His wife would sell it off because she doesn't appreciate the history that goes behind such an item. She sees age and thinks it's ugly. How can she appreciate our family history when she does not appreciate her own? Then there is Howard who would end up destroying such an item because he isn't careful. That leaves you." Arnold was always the one that was to inherit his chest. He never intended Frank or Howard to get the chest. The boy didn't need to know that. John would just leave it behind in the family house, he never had any care for the heirloom.

"Me?" Arnold asked, eyes wide with surprise. Looking at the chest with longing and distrust. As if he was offering something that was going to be taken away. It had been done before by both Jack and his wife.

"Yes, you are my son. And everything in there is yours now. I know you will appreciate it more than your brothers. I want you to give that to your own son when the time comes."

"I don't have a son," Arnold said with longing.

"I know that you don't have a family yet. One day."

"One day," Arnold repeated with the same longing.

Arnold and Frank, his only two children that actually wanted a family. John and Howard both had no interest in settling down even though Howard was married, Jack didn't think it would last. He hoped that his youngest one day found someone that he could be happy with.

"Take it when you leave. I know your brothers won't respect my wishes when I die. Keep your mother company until you return to work." Which translated to keep her out of his father's hair.

Arnold rushed to his feet and to the door. He stopped in the doorway, turning and crying once more. These didn't seem like tears of mourning or anger, they were tears of joy. "Thank you, father."

Arnold raced out the door. This would be the last visit home Jack would ever see his youngest son. Arnold only came home for weddings and funerals. With Frank and Howard, Sarah and Alice married, there was no one left to get married with John gone and Arnold unlikely to invite anyone to his wedding if he did get married. The next funeral was most likely going to be his own. It would kill him if he had to bury another son.

 

"Arnold's gone home, he took your chest," his wife said after they'd both finished their night time routine.

"It is rightfully his, even if he doesn't know it," Jack let out a heavy sigh. It was a family secret that was probably going to end up going to the grave. They were the only two people were left that knew the truth with John gone.

"Should we tell him?" It wasn't the first time she'd asked him if they should tell their youngest the truth.

Jack let out another heavy sighed. "What's the point in telling Arnold now that we aren't his parents, that we're actually his grandparents. It would kill him if he knew that John didn't want him and that he tried unsuccessfully to kill him when he was an infant. Arnold would want to know who his mother is, about her family who are now all dead. John blamed Arnold for killing her."

"Technically Arnold did kill her when she died in childbirth. I always wonder how different things would be if she survived." His wife pondered.

"I thought his other grandparents would want him." They were gone now too, and it still surprised him that they refused their daughters child. All they saw was a reminder that their daughter died birthing him. "We didn't want him. We only kept him, so no one knew he was John's. So his chance to get into the Space Corps wasn't destroyed."

"Arnold turned out to be such a well mannered young man compared to our other boys. He kept me company the entire time, getting me everything I needed. He's the only one who writes me letters. Yet I cannot let go of the fact that he's the reason John now hates me. John never forgave me before he died. I hate my grandchild. Shouldn't I love him since I raised him as my son? I wish he was the one dead instead of John. That boy is a waste of space. He's hopeless at his job and with other people, and yet he's the only one who made sure I was alright."

Jack didn't wish his youngest son dead. He didn't hate his youngest son like his wife did.

"Did we do something wrong? John was so unruly as a teenager and killing himself on top of that. If any of them were going to kill themselves, I always suspected Arnold. He even spoke about doing just that today."

His wife looked horrified. "I don't want to lose another one of my boys, even Arnold. Things would've been easier if Arnold was born a girl and still had the same interests. I think I could've loved him if he was a girl. He was the only one that came to the theatre with me. I knew that Arnold loved going, pretending that he hated it because he knew that you wouldn't let him go anymore."

Jack looked at his wife, "I would've allowed him to keep going just, so I wasn't dragged along. Maybe I should of let him know he was allowed to like the theatre. My chest will be safe in his hands, he'll appreciate it."


End file.
